Brother and Guardian
by PoisonBones
Summary: There were very few things that could really make one fear Trouble Kelp. One of those things was his little brother Grub. Trouble loved him, and the only reason that he would harm anyone intentionally would be because someone had dared to lay a finger upon his baby brother's head. Little brother Grub and overprotective Trouble.


There were very few things that could really make one fear Trouble Kelp.

One of those things was his little brother Grub.

It was not directly Grub himself that made elves and pixies alike fear Trouble, it was rather what made Grub fear _them_ that did it.

Tulip and Morel Kelp had been paupers, and the little surprise of Trouble had done them no money good. Morel had gotten into gambling, and he was a damn good one at that, winning every game, and soon the loan sharks and the gangs were after him. It was at this unfortunate time that Grub decided to come along. Trouble remembered being confused as about why his mother held him and Grub close at night as she cried. Daddy never came home.

Mother went under, and Trouble became the man of the house.

It was in those times that people started to get scared. It was also in those times that, in terms of Grub, Trouble didn't know if he should be the brother or the guardian. As a child, Trouble simply chose the former, teaching Grub to play games or chasing him around their little one story shack. It was as the commander of the LEP that Trouble's job became harder. He could not solve things the way a child would, so he did it in the most mature way possible.

When it was a public offense, such as accidently shooting a fellow officer on a surveillance mission (you would be surprised at how often Grub managed to do just that), He would give a formal apology to the family and stick Grub on traffic duty for a month. If it was a personal affair, such as bullying or the petty nitpickings of other young officers, Trouble would brush it off coolly. He would clean up Grub's bruises and scrapes and send him off to bed without so much as a hint of anger. He would resolve the matter, and when Grub awoke the next morning he would find his brother sitting at the table with a paper laid across his lap looking relaxed. He would eat breakfast and go to work with his head ducked down, only to raise it up high when he saw that his offenders had large whelps and bruises across their noses and shoulders.

Granted it maybe wasn't the punishment you received that made people scared, it was a fact that many of those smart enough not to meddle in the two brothers affairs found both secretly yet, utterly hilarious. It was the fact that Trouble Kelp was the kind of older brother that would cast aside his pride and dignity to show up at some ones house at three AM in pajama pants and untied boots, scratching the back of his neck with his Neutrino 2000 and lazily asking if you were acquainted with his brother before beating you up.

It was also a fact that in these times, even Grub was a little scared. A certain time still made him shiver, when, as he walked out the door the next morning, Trouble told him;

"He won't be bothering you again anytime soon …..or be coming to work."

Grub's face had paled, and he had rushed straight to the patrol line, where his offenders name was marked as AFD (absent for duty). He had inquired upon Trouble about just what his brother had done to him.

"He hurt you, Grub." Trouble said with an angry scowl, "Both emotionally and physically. I simply returned the favor. If you don't like the consequences of their actions, stop getting beat up. Or better yet, stop giving them a _reason_ to beat you up."

Grub had pondered long and hard on that. He didn't intentionally get picked on or beat up and he sure didn't intentionally give them a reason to do so. It wasn't his fault that the patrol guns trigger lock was a piece of slug slime (a long stringy one at that), and it wasn't his fault that he simply did not enjoy running. It wasn't his fault that all of the filing folders were labeled wrong, causing him to send Vinyaya's reports on child abuse to the prostitution houses, it wasn't his fault that his feet were too small to fit any of the LEP boots, it wasn't his fault that he couldn't figure out how to put a pair of handcuffs on a tree that didn't sway in the wind. It wasn't his fault that he just seemed to suck at absolutely everything on the God's green earth.

He'd cried then. _Only a little,_ he told himself, burying his face into his pillow and silently sobbing. The bruises and scrapes on his chin and his cheeks burned as they rubbed up against the fabric. He'd cried until Trouble knocked on his door lightly before entering, announcing that he was going to sleep as well.

"Goodnight, Grub. I love you."

It was a horribly sensitive thing for Trouble to say, but it felt good. Grub had never had any doubt in his mind that his brother loved him, even if he never really directly implied it, but to hear him say it was an amazing thing. It didn't seem so bad then. Trouble loved him, and the only reason that he would harm anyone intentionally would be because someone had dared to lay a finger upon his baby brother's head. It was this realization that made Grub grin into his pillow and attempt to discreetly wipe away his tears, and replied back in a pitched voice;

"Night Trubs, I love you too."


End file.
